


come home with me

by mediocretrombone



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Insecurity, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23894548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediocretrombone/pseuds/mediocretrombone
Summary: “Well, you’ll be going back to live in Brigid soon, won’t you?” Dorothea asks.“Yes, of course. But you are also going to Brigid. So why will you be missing me?”“Wait,what?” Dorothea says.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary
Comments: 3
Kudos: 138
Collections: femslashficlets: queer women's literature quotes challenge





	come home with me

**Author's Note:**

> written for the femslashficlets Queer Women's Literature Quotes prompt table, #2 - 'The realization of great mutual love can at times be so overwhelming a thing, that even the bravest of hearts may grow fearful,' Radclyffe Hall, The Well of Loneliness.

Dorothea is all for a good party and the victory celebration that has been raging for the last few days after that last battle is not just a good party, but a _great_ one, one for the history books. So, really, she should still be out there, drinking and dancing with everyone else.

But here she is, in her old dormitory, tangled up with the Princess of Brigid of all people.

They aren’t kissing, just holding each other. And for all her flirting, Dorothea’s never really _had_ this. Sure, she’s had her flings, her passionate affairs, but she’s never been _held_ like this.

They lie on Dorothea’s old bed, facing each other with their legs intertwined; Petra’s hands run through her hair gently, as they gaze at each other.

Dorothea knows Petra will have to go back to Brigid, now this is all over. Sure, they write to each other, but Dorothea’s a realist, she knows their relationship cannot be sustained, especially not through letters. Petra’s going to be Queen, after all.

So Dorothea drinks her in, the curve of her face, the violet of her eyes, the warmth of her body; she tries to memorise every little thing about Petra like she used to memorise her lines back when she was an opera singer instead of a soldier.

Dorothea startles out of her thoughts when Petra presses a thumb between her brows, smoothing out the crease that had formed there, and then follows it with a gentle kiss to her forehead. Dorothea melts into the bed a little more, warm with affection.

“You are unhappy,” Petra says, not a question but a statement. “Why? We have won.”

Victory feels sort of bittersweet, for Dorothea. She became disillusioned with the war a long time ago. She’s seen more horror than she ever thought she would. So, no, she’s not _happy_ they won; she’s relieved it’s over.

She doesn’t say that to Petra though. They’ve discussed it before – many times before actually, when Dorothea had gotten weighed down with weariness and Petra was trying to comfort her, or when Petra had gotten injured in battle and Dorothea was so, so fucking scared that this was the end. Petra tries her best to understand, goddess bless her, but Dorothea knows she doesn’t. All Petra knows is war; she grew up with it, lost her father to it, got sent here because of it. She’s a warrior through and through.

Dorothea smiles at her, full of adoration and sorrow. She hates war, but she loves her warrior. Petra is kind and fierce and values duty over everything. Dorothea loves her for it; she is not so selfish as to ask her to abandon everything – for what? Her, a peasant girl with nothing to offer but her love and her touch.

Knowing this is for the best doesn’t stop it from breaking her heart, though.

Dorothea turns her face into the hand Petra has rested on her cheek and presses an affectionate kiss for her palm.

“I’m going to miss you, is all,” she sighs, fighting against the way her eyes are going damp.

Petra frowns at her. “Miss me? Why will you miss me? Where are you going?”

Dorothea blinks, her melancholy quickly replaced with confusion.

“Well, you’ll be going back to live in Brigid soon, won’t you?” Dorothea asks.

“Yes, of course. But you are also going to Brigid. So why will you be missing me?”

“Wait, _what_?” Dorothea says, a little strangled, startled into sitting up.

Petra, also startled, sits up with her. Something like fear flashes across her face. “Unless you are changing your mind and that is fine also!”

“Wait, no, that’s not – I know we talked about you showing me Brigid, but I don’t think you really meant it. Or, well, I know you meant it, because you don’t say things you don’t mean, but I didn’t think you meant – right away, and to – to live? With you? Was that – what you meant, Petra?” Dorothea has never felt more thrown off in her life.

Petra grasps her hands, a little desperately. “I am apologising – for not being more clear. If that is not what you want, then – it is your decision. But I meant it when I said it is impossible to be imagining life without you. I love you and I am wanting you to be by my side. If – if that is what you also want.”

Dorothea feels her eyes becoming damp again, for completely different reasons. “I – yes, of course that’s what I want! But I didn’t think – are you sure? You could have anyone you want, Petra, I’m just a – I’m no-one.”

“You are not no-one!” Petra says, angry and gripping her hands tighter, pulling her closer until Dorothea is almost on her lap. “You are my dearest friend and my beloved.”

Dorothea is struck breathless.

“Beloved?” she mutters, feeling flushed. “I – I like that a lot. And I love you too, of course I do, I am just – very aware that you are a Queen, Petra. Surely you can better.”

“There is no better,” Petra says, almost petulant, and with such confidence that Dorothea feels sort of lightheaded. Petra is never anything but honest, so Dorothea has always known her compliments weren’t empty, but her sincerity now shakes Dorothea to her core. If not for the dull ache of the bruises from that last battle, she would assume she was having a very vivid dream. “I do not want anyone else; I want _you._ Brigid is my home, but so are you, Dorothea.”

“Oh,” Dorothea says and bursts into tears.

As Petra fusses over her, she lets all her doubts and fear and insecurities leave her alongside her tears. She smiles through blurry eyes at Petra and says, “You really love me, huh?”

“Yes,” Petra says, simple and beautiful, wiping away her tears. “Come home with me?”

“I would love to,” Dorothea says, before kissing her with everything she has.


End file.
